The Chiang Mai Incident
We felt like celebrity travellers on our entry into Thailand. Our own immigration desk, our names on a board as we disembarked, special stickers to collect our luggage, doors personally opened as we walked towards them. We’d expected the usual stress and chaos of an international to domestic transfer. Frustratingly slow moving queues to clear immigration, an interminable wait to retrieve our bags before queuing to recheck in and go through security, but this was a dream of efficiency and great service. We still don’t know why we got this treatment, if only it was always like that.
We had intended to travel to Chiang Mai from Siem Reap across the Cambodia/Thailand land border – alas the continued hostilities between the two countries had put paid to that so we had to resort to flying. We had hoped that we could journey from Vietnam through Cambodia, Thailand and on to Malaysia without getting any flights but it was not to be. But at least Northern Thailand is still relatively cool at this time of the year, a temperature we’re really enjoying compared to the suffering from the hot & sticky South East Asian climate we’d experienced on our previous trips to the area.
Our first stop on a month-long visit to Thailand, Chiang Mai was definitely touristy, but still had a nice feel. Our guesthouse was on a quaint dead-end alley in a old wooden house with beautiful, aged parquet floors and a gated indoor courtyard full of lush green plants. Wat Si Koet was at the end of the alley with a serene golden Buddha perched high in a stupa keeping guard over the street. Local life continued unabated in the narrow alleyways, seemingly unaffected by the commercialism that had consumed the main tourist street.
There were temples at every turn and the Thai’s certainly know how to do temples. Splendour and magnificence reigned. All curved eaves and dragons. Dragons spewing from the mouths of dragons. White dragons. Gold dragons. Stone dragons. Jewel encrusted dragons. Most temples are white with faded orange tiled roofs but the teak temple ar Wat Phantao was a lovely rich, dark brown. Decorated for the new year with colourful hanging banners with gold depictions of the Chinese zodiac animals glittering in the sun. Gold Buddha statues sat around the interior where small black cauldrons sat in rows awaiting offerings. Peaceful, just steps away the noise of the town.
The late afternoon, just as the sun started to fall and the light hit that magic moment was the perfect time to visit Wat Phra Singh. Chanting eminated from the large temple building where saffron-clad monks sat in rows before the great, gold Buddha, the low, harmonious sound drifting through the grounds where the carved apsaras glowed a rosy hue on the old brick temple, and the huge golden stupa and it’s guardian elephants shone magnificently in the sun.
The Sunday night street market was only a step away from our guesthouse and heaving. The gates to our alleyway were bolted to prevent any undesirables wandering in. A multitude of craft and souvenir stalls with stall after stall selling the ubiquitous elephant pants that don’t really suit anyone but that half the tourists, both male and female, old and young, seem to have a compulsion to wear here. We were wanting food. All the vendors seemingly congregate in the temple courtyards, Sunday night obviously isn’t a night for quiet contemplation and we did see quite a few monks wandering around the stalls. Steam and smoke belched from the lines of stalls but none of the food looked overly appetising – scorpion on a stick? Maybe not. We eventually found a small courtyard where traditional dancers were performing and where we could get cooked-to-order prawn pad thai as well as a cold beer, which for some reason needed to be cunningly disguised with a banana leaf.
Wat Lok Moli situated just outside the moat lined old city walls was fabulous, the best of all the lovely temples we’d seen so far in Chiang Mai. Guarded by both a red and a green statuesque demon, with huge white elephants lining the entrance way and numerous temple buildings within it’s walls. Colourful zodiac banners fluttered overhead and a bronze cockerel water carrier could be hoisted on a pulley to deposit water on the side of an old brick stupa, the water track now covered in moss. All around, the air was perfumed with the smell of incense. It was calming & beautiful.
Feeling chilled after a delicious traditional lunch we set off through the backstreets to yet another temple. That’s when it happened. Innocently walking along the street when we were hit by a runaway motorbike!
It all happened so fast. I heard an almighty clatter behind me and was just considering whether to turn and look when I was hit hard, my feet flying from under me before being deposited, with a bump unceremoniously onto the mucky street. I had no idea what had just occurred. I felt dizzy and my head was throbbing. Simon rushed over telling me not to move, checking I could see straight. I could. But he shouted for an ambulance anyway. He’d seen what happened to me and it looked bad. I’d been swept off my feet and into the air as the motorbike cannoned into me as it slid sideways along the road. Landing first on the bike, hitting my back on the wheel spokes while my head ricocheted off the handlebars.
I had a large graze up my back. And a cut on the back of my head but it turned out that had been caused by my claw clip sticking into my head rather than anything on the bike! Who knew hair accessories could be so dangerous? But my head still throbbed.
I saw my camera lying next to me and panicked. Was it damaged? Thankfully not, not a scratch on it miraculously. Simon rescued my phone that had landed further down the road, just a scuff on the cover.
What about my clothes? I don’t have many. There was a large rip in the back of my trousers. They were black and I had grey knickers on. They were showing through the tear. What a day not to be colour coordinated!
At that point, Simon realised I was OK.
Rachel, the English girl that was driving, was in a state of shock. Sobbing uncontrollably and saying ‘Sorry’ over and over. She was covered in mud with a blood stain spreading in a circle on her white top. Gashes on her left hand were bleeding and covered in dirt and flies. She didn’t look good. She’d never driven a bike before and was having a practice when a car got a little bit too close. She panicked and lost control, hitting the car before coming off the bike after which it slid into us. She’d been on it all of two minutes.
I’ve never been in an ambulance before and found that Thai ones are not very comfortable. It resembled the Ecto-1 car from Ghostbusters, minus the ghost-zapping equipment. Four of us climbed in, including Rachel’s friend Jess who was trying her best to calm her down. It was a very bumpy ride and we were attracting a lot of attention from people on the streets as we weaved through the masses of motorbikes, sirens wailing. Could they see in? At that point Simon told me he’d been hit as well and his leg hurt. He was behind me and taken more of the impact than I had. He’d been knocked over and his camera had received a huge scratch on the top, worryingly. Thankfully it was also still working fine.
The A&E entrance opened directly onto the garage. It was empty. No wait. The tourist liason man (we think that’s what his role was) told us bike accidents tend to be later in the day and it would get busy around dusk. He was right. We were seen quickly and cleaned up, before being taken, in wheelchairs, for x-rays. Out through the fume filled garage, we bumped over doorways and through deserted corridors to a small room containing a high metal table and a very ancient looking x-ray machine. Climb up, snap, snap, done.
We were trundled back to the A&E, back through the garage where the paramedics were having a smoke. By now Simon’s leg was agony, he could walk but was worried it could be fractured. We sat around on the beds waiting to hear the outcome from the x-rays chatting about travel plans, as we waited for the doctor and as the flow of bike accident victims began just as predicted. This wasn’t quite the sterile and hygienic hospital environment found at home. Here there were normal sheets on the beds, chocolate brown ones so as not to show any stains and scratchy green blankets that were just moved from one bed to another as needed. The nurses wore cardigans or fleeces over their scrubs and random people continuely wandered in and out. The important stuff, the medical kit, was all sterile though. Thankfully, the x-ray results showed nobody had any bones broken. Rachel needed a couple of stitches, needle & thread. We all got tetanus injections which turned out to be quite pricey, and a whole heap of painkillers and antibiotics. Our total bill was £213. We’ve decided we won’t log that as a trip expense. And so our unexpected afternoon came to an end. It had been a very surreal experience.
We indulged ourselves with a really good Italian meal that evening, an authentic lasagne and mushroom & truffle ravioli followed by the most delicious hot chocolate fondant & ice cream and a stewed apple pie & cream. We thought we deserved a treat.
The following day saw us at the police station (another first for me) to sign statements and confirm we weren’t pressing any charges. As with the hospital it was another relaxed affair, we just wandered in. The police uniforms just as casually accessorised as at the hospital, with the guy we dealt with adding a matching navy bobble to his hair. Pity it was for the 2 inch hair sprouting from the giant mole on his face. Very off-putting.
Our bruises took a long time to develop and weren’t nearly as impressive as we’d expected, the bruise on Simon’s arm from the tetanus injection was worse. We were lucky – it could have been a whole lot worse.
The Chiang Mai temples are wonderful places and we enjoyed the town more than we’d hoped, given our aversion to touristy places, but I think our accident and trip to the hospital will go down as our most memorable experience of the town.
Footnote: Our grazes are healing well and our bruises are now a faded yellow, it’s just a little painful carrying my pack but we’ve avoided doing too much of that since the accident. And I’ve mended my trousers.
Helen (15th January 2026)
Well that made reading a little tougher after the accident. Glad you’re both ok now, and the cameras survived too! X
Oh goodness, glad youre both okay and healing well. Love how youre more worried about the cameras than yourselves 😅
Glad it didnt put a dampener on what sounds like a beautiful place… and i now have images of a mole with a pony tail xx
Glad you’re both OK. Loved the part about the knickers! I also have visions of the motorbike girl like inbetweeners were he drives it straight into a building.
So glad you are both ok now after your accident. Good job sewing up your pants bit sad about your knickers not being coordinated and the cameras still work,these photos are wonderful. X
Omg! Not the kind of adventure you were hoping for! But as you say, it could have been a lot worse. Glad that you’re both ok and hope you’re soon fully healed. Xx
Glad you’re both ok, what a relief! ❤️
Thanks Angela – we can smile about it now at least!
Just catching up on 2026 posts. Thank goodness you (and your possessions) are all OK. Hopefully you and the trousers are bearing up well x x. I think the concern about non matching undies was a good sign